The Art Of Redemption
by UzumakiMitoChan
Summary: Eleya didn't know she would die today. As a powerful commander for her King's army she is steeled and hollowed through and through. But then it all ends, she finds herself inside an infant's body, and in a strange world where people defy the laws of nature and seem to have incredible abilities. She was reborn as Yukiko Uzumaki, and she just wanted to die.
1. Chapter 1

_How will I die?_ It's a question many have asked themselves in the duration of their lives. Some say you see a bright light, or maybe you'd be floating above your body. There are many theories and acclaimed experiences of people who have seen life after death.

I had not expected to die that day. Taking one last look at the chaos around me, my vision went dark, and I succumbed to the nothingness that overtook me. No one would notice my passing though, and I'm sure my body would be counted among the unfortunate casualties in this war. Death is darkness. All you can see is black. There is no sense of time here. No sensation or thought. If this was eternity, I knew for sure I would eventually go insane. My name was Eleya. The world as I'd known as a child ended the day my parents and baby sister were killed in another bombing. I had just turned six. For more than half my life war had been all I'd known. I was born in a warzone. No one cared how old you were, or if you had family that would miss you. If you were weak, you were cut off right then and there. The market people wouldn't sell to you, not wanting to waste precious resources on a beggar when they could be going to the war effort. It wasn't that my people were patriots in particular to their country, they were simply scared. So they formed an agreement with the constant stream of soldiers that occupied our borders, protection for resources. The peace was tenuous and strained at best, but for my little village, there was peace.

Then the other side changed tactics. They began to drop bombs and the like on places of highly concentrated areas of population. Thankful though we were for our town's meager amount of citizens, the tension and inevitable feelings of fear were still there, and they were rising. My village decided to no longer take a step back and watch. So they began to draft children. All children from the ages of thirteen to seventeen were to be given over to our government to begin training immediately. I was only six at the time, and escaped the draft, as did my baby sister, but that just made it harder for us to be the only family still together with each other after the draft. Many people had lost their children to the draft, and it took a deep toll on the psyche of my village as a whole. They were angry, and hurt, and so immeasurably sad. But that didn't excuse what they did next. The village councilmen had gotten desperate to protect what was remaining of the townspeople. But, with the children gone, production of many goods and resources we gave the soldiers to protect us had dwindled to where we'd barely had enough to sustain ourselves. The attacks and raidings seemed to be coming closer and closer to us, and after a bomb took out the next town over, not even twenty miles from our very own, the officiates of our village decided that we need a scout.

My family was immediately selected without a second thought, and we were packed away and shipped out to the most recent battleground to be able to warn our town in case of an impending attack or bombing. It was in one such event that I was sent out as a runner to let my people know of the coming danger. It was just when I was fifteen minutes outside the entrance gates that I watched everything I'd loved literally explode. I don't remember much in this point of my life, just that afterwards, I became a ward of the government. I decided to draft myself when I turned eight. By then, I had already had a tremendous amount of physical training, and could win fights with peers three times my age group. I felt so much pain and hatred, that for the next ten years, pain and blood were all I lived. I completed missions and assassinations in the name a cause and war I didn't even truly believe in. I just wanted to revel in the destruction, and make sure everyone felt my pain as acutely and as poignantly as I had been forced to. I rose quickly through the ranks. My skill and my bloodlust making my young age matter little. By eighteen I was Second Commander in Chief of the 54th battalion of the King's army. I led an army of more than 50,000 through the hell that was the battlefield.

I knew I was dying before I'd felt it. The pain was sharp and debilitating, but I also felt warm. As I lay there dying I felt unfathomably proud. I had at least done something. I died at peace. Honestly, by the time of my death, my life and any joy that came with it had already gone to hell in a handbasket. I thought I would stay in this dark place for all eternity. It was nothing less than I deserved. I had killed to many people and ruined so many lives. All in the name of the same war that ended the lives of all those precious to me.

Eventually my kinesthetic sense told me that my body was actually moving. In what way, or what direction I didn't know, but I finally had something to occupy my mind. Slowly but surely, feeling and sense returned to my body, I began to experimentally move my fingers and toes. I wasn't met with much success but I was also focusing on getting a sense of what was what in my body; like where my nose was, my eyes, ears, mouth,etc. Once I had complete control of that I was able to slowly wiggle both my fingers and my toes. The process was delicate and slow, but I was determined to gain control over my body, if not just a little so I had a chance of getting out of here. Another long amount of time passed and I started to notice that the "area" of whatever you'd call it that I was in seemed to be getting… smaller. Now I'm not usually a claustrophobic type of person, but by the time I'd noticed what was happening, I was crammed up tight with my legs pulled to my chest. Just when I thought all was lost and that I'd suffocate, I saw a wisp of light. I struggled towards it, wiggling and moving my body every which way. When I finally come to the surface, I'm taken aback by how freezing cold it is. The chill hits me so hard it completely wracks my frame, causing a violent shiver to go up my spine.

Though my vision was still incredibly blurry, making it impossible to make out any actual details; I could see that everything around was

giant. This made a distinct sense of dread fill me. My paranoia and soldier's sense kicked in and I focused my senses. To answer the call of

my will, my mind unleashed a wave of pain that blasted across my scalp. I couldn't withhold the whimper of pain that escaped my lips. I felt

a warm pair of arms pick me up and cradle me. It was then I realized two things: first, by some way or doing, I had been reincarnated with all

my past life memory and training completely in tact. I thought dying would be the ultimate escape from life and all it's tragedy, but now I

knew I was stuck yet again to a fate I did not yet know. I could only hope it would be better this time around. At that time though,

overwhelmed with this knowledge and emotion, I shattered. I opened my mouth and screamed.


	2. First Years Discovery Ch: 2

**Chapter 2: First Years Discovery**

I don't remember the first years of my life. I'm actually kind of glad I don't. Imagine being a full grown cognizant adult in mind, yet being forced to go through humiliating and degrading experiences like being changed and bathed. To remember all of that would have been mortifying. Images and pictures floated through my mind as I had the vague feeling that my intellect and memory was being somehow reduced. I was scared to lose it all and forget everything, so I forced myself to think and remember all that had happened until I would fall into exhaustion. Only for me to wake up the next morning with even less details and less explicit knowledge on what went on. I was terrified. I didn't want to forget. Those first few years were some of the worst I had in this new life.

My 'mother', if that, was who she was to me didn't do much in the way of teaching and nourishing me. She took care of only my most basic of needs, such as washing, feeding, and changing. Other things a mother usually does, _should_ do, like playing, physical affection, or even just holding me; these were not normal occurrences in this second childhood I experienced. In a way, I couldn't help but be grateful to my second mother's detachment. Even as life began anew for me, there was still a deep sorrow, an _ache_ in the very marrows of my soul. I had so dearly loved my first mother. Her kindness and demure yet fiery nature would always remain dear to my heart and burned into my memory. I no longer had the emotional capacity to love like that again. I did certainly have a vague fondness of her, as she gave me life, and was not cruel to me, but I couldn't get myself to drudge up even a smidgen of love or affection for this woman.

Time, it seems, starts to move quickly, and before I know it I am almost a year old. The one feeling that stands out in this memory was panic. Pure panic, and despair to how much more of myself I seemed to lose with each passing day. More and more of my precious memories began to fade, and with them my even existential retention towards human emotion. I could no longer hear my mother's voice, see my father's smile, even remember by baby sister's face. It was like I was struggling with all my might to hold on to the last good memories I have, but something just refuses to leave me be. I never realised how claustrophobic, how _traumatizing_ this experience would be until the last thing that kept my sanity was being chipped away piece by agonizing piece. I fought with everything in my limited mental magnitude to remember the few things good in my life so that I would not forget that little girl inside me that just wanted to watch her baby sister grow up, and her parents grow old together. I didn't want to forget what made me, well, me. Harrowed by the realization that I would, in a way, cease to exist before I could even begin again caused me to do something drastic.

Although my memories seemed to be fading, leaving me a shell of my former self, my body and the control I could exert over it was ever-increasing. By a year old I could walk pretty steady and for the most part my body listened to what I commanded of it. I no longer had to endure defecating and pissing on myself all hours of the day. If anything I actually felt stronger than ever, I knew instantly that this new body I'd been given would be stronger and more durable than my predecessor. Deep inside me I could feel this energy coil and swell, circulating through my limbs and leaving me warm. I don't know how or why it occurred to me to start trying to push this warm feeling to my damaged and broken mind. Maybe it was instinct, or maybe I hadn't lost as much of my intelligence as I thought, but that night, with this last desperate idea in mind, I searched for that warmth.

Almost immediately it bursts forth within me, and I can't help the feeling of almost awe and joy when it answered my call by sluggishly crawling up towards my head. The heat of this warmth reaching my mind was like an explosion of fire behind my eyelids, yet the sweetest nirvana I could ever achieve. Images rupture internally and it's like watching my life in fast forward. The last thing I remember besides the sudden sharp pain radiating through my skull was my caretaker bursting through the door and running to me, looking more frightened than I'd thought her capable of. It was then that I lost consciousness. That night I dreamed of my mother's lullaby.

 _Naughty birdy song is made_

 _By pecking holes in trees_

 _Willow, Seeder, Sycamore_

 _And Proud Oaks reduced to cheese_

 _Woodland guards all in huff_

 _Have forever cursed your naughty beak_

 _What it pecks, it poisons all_

 _Your food, your nest, and then your young_

 _Your friends now all fear you_

 _But you tears ring clearly through the wood_

 _Even as they taint the dew_

 _Such a sad sad little birdie_

 _Maybe one day this song with break the curse and set you free._

… **Okay, so I know that I should be updating my other story "Cherry Blossom In Bloom," and I am! I swear, but I just couldn't stop the words from flowing for this one. I hope ya'll like it, and I promise to have an update for CBIB as soon as possible.**

 **Thanks for all your patience and support,**

 **~Uzumaki Mito-Chan~**


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